laundry day
by caniex
Summary: who wears short shorts? winry wears short shorts. who sees winry in said shorts? take an educated guess. edwin two-year interlude shenanigans.


**pairing:** ed/winry  
**themes:** stupid dorks being stupid (i'm aware that isn't a theme but it's the only thing that fits)  
**rating:** k+ or t, depending on how you look at it. (sexual-ish themes?)  
**a/n:** based off this and dedicated to the wonderful laurathecookiemonster for giving me the basis of which to write this ilu bby and i hope you like this  
**a/n2:** i'm laughing so hard  
**a/n3:** as per usual, this was posted on my tumblr first and holy crap it is now the most popular ed/winry oneshot i have ever written. everyone over there really seems to enjoy it, and i hope you all like it as well!

**enjoy!~**

* * *

It was completely innocent… in the beginning, at least. Perhaps intentional was the correct phrasing; after all, she hadn't bought them herself.

They were a gift from Nelly on her 17th birthday. And granted, Winry really appreciated the effort and care the girl had put into her present - a pair of thin, silky, lace-trimmed pajama shorts that barely reached the tops of her milky thighs - but the skimpy lingerie-like jammies weren't really her style. And it certainly wasn't like she had anyone to wear them for.

Nevertheless, Winry graciously accepted the gift but stowed the bag deep into her closet where her grandmother wouldn't venture to collect stray laundry. It would be downright embarrassing to parade around the house with those on, she'd concluded, and so she'd forgotten about the sexy shorts. That is, until laundry day the following week.

With a cringe, she'd reached into the crunchy pink tissue paper forest and clutched the silky fabric, yanking it out and studying it cautiously. It looked two sizes too small, a layer too thin, and an inch too short. But it she didn't have many other options, and it was only just for today, right?

Winry stepped in front of the mirror and hesitantly stepped into the shorts, slowly tugging them up her long legs with ease. The silk felt smooth and chill against her skin and they weren't nearly as tight or flimsy as they'd appeared, she noted happily. Once the waistband was firm around her hips, she checked her reflection. And gasped.

She looked_ good_.

The light pink silk complimented her fair skin and shimmered almost tauntingly in the light, whereas the black lace added an intriguing contrast and a flair of sultry teasing. They hugged her bottom in all the right places but left just a little more room for the imagination to come into play, as well.

Winry grinned, delighted as she spun around, admiring the jammies from every angle. She felt exotic and pampered, luxurious. She felt beautiful, and though she'd never considered herself it before, she felt sexy and desirable. She felt empowered. And she relished in it.

But she wasn't one to get too enamored with material objects and so they became her laundry day shorts, only to be worn when there was nothing else clean, not only to preserve the delicate shorts and spare them of constant washing, but as a little pick-me-up. A nice treat to herself every once in a while.

It became ritual to wear those shorts on laundry day, she hadn't even given it a second thought.

Especially when the brothers came home.

—-

The first time, it was unintentional.

She'd simply slid the shorts on during her nighttime routine, given her reflection a pleased smile, and flopped into her warm bed for a promising good night's rest.

As usual, she woke up just before the crack of dawn. She stretched her dormant muscles and padded wearily out of bed. The only thing on her mind was a cup of coffee to jump-start her brain.

It was a little over a month that the brothers had returned home from Central, and those days had been filled with readjusting the boys, namely Al, back to 'normal life', as she'd liked to phrase it. It'd thrown her schedule off whack; she'd had to remove the stray piece of metal embedded within Ed's shoulder, and she'd refused to leave Al by himself for too long, and she still had regular appointments and checkups for her customers that she couldn't very well neglect.

Not to mention she'd just wanted to spend every waking moment with the boys and their (mostly, aside from Ed's leg, which she'd also had to repair) restored bodies. It was wonderful seeing them, seeing Al back to normal, and they were easily the best days she'd had in a while.

She hummed happily as she teetered down the steps, setting her sights towards the kitchen only to realize she wasn't the only one awake. Edward was sitting at the dining table, hunched over a stack of papers. His golden hair was tied up in a disheveled ponytail, little strands poking out in all directions, and he was only wearing plain boxers and a black tank top.

Of course he's still manage to look attractive running on little to no sleep, dressed like a slob.

She sighed to no one in particular. Things had gotten so weird between them since he and Al had come home. Sure, things were fine when it was the three of them, but when it was just her and him, conversations that would've once run smoothly and freely, save for the obvious banter, were filled with awkwardly placed commas and cutoffs. He'd cling to their hugs a little longer than necessarily, brush into her a little more intently while passing in the hall, lock eyes with her more steadily. On one hand, she felt like he was always examining her, like he was drinking her in, but on the other, it seemed like he was avoiding her at all costs.

It was downright frustrating and granted she hadn't expected romantic, grandioso gestures, but she hadn't anticipated this either. It was obvious enough that he liked her, maybe even lo… but the constant back and forth left her confused and aggravated.

She shrugged her shoulders; it was too early to worry about such things.

"Hey, Ed," she muttered, ruffling her fingers through her blonde tresses.

He didn't break his gaze from the papers. "Hey," he replied curtly.

She frowned, "Why're you up?"

"Couldn't sleep. 'Sides, Mustang wants this report approved and signed by me in a few days."

"You know, he's a General now," she pointed out, to which she only received a muffled 'whatever' in response. Her frown deepened; she could see the conversation was clearly going nowhere and she wasn't really in the mood, not this early. Ed was even grumpier in the mornings.

"Did you at least make coffee?"

He gestured to the mug before him that she hadn't noticed. "What does it look like?"

She grunted and rolled her eyes but gave no further response, instead opting to escape into the adjoining kitchen to find a half-full pot brewing. She quickly poured herself a mug and went through the normal motions; humming as she added a little bit of milk and opening the silverware drawer to retrieve a spoon for her sugar.

Her drowsiness got the better of her, and the utensil clattered to the floor beneath her.

She threw her head back in annoyance and let out a quiet groan that triggered Ed's attention. He finally looked up to see her just as she bent over to retrieve the spoon.

His face felt hot and his words became lost in his throat and loose elements began swirling through his mind to calm him down as he got a very gracious view of Winry, not to mention the slightest tease of lacy white panties reaching out from under her shorts, which were practically halfway up her ass.

Sure, he'd gotten pretty far in admitting to himself that he was attracted to Winry and, yeah, maybe he might… like her in a different, less-sisterly-like way than Al did. Maybe he caught himself thinking about her a little more than he'd like to admit, and perhaps he more than a little reluctant to return her earrings back to her. Maybe he'd catch his eyes not leaving her if she entered a room, and, yeah, he'd enjoyed being home with her more than he thought he would.

So what, maybe he loved her? He certainly wasn't prepared for this!

He felt heat creeping up his spine and the Periodic Table slipping from under his breath as she retracted the fallen object and slowly straightened her back, letting her tresses fall in elegant waves over her shoulders. All he could manage was a weak gasp.

She froze at the noise and became alarmingly hyperaware of the situation. She felt his molten gaze burning through her back and his deepening voice reciting loose elements at random.

A similar event replayed before her, in a much colder climate, in more dire circumstances, and a metal arm between them.

**_Oh._**

She smirked to no one in particular. So he had been noticing her, after all.

Well this certainly gave new substance and intent to her favorite pair of shorts.

She spun around on her heel, sticking on hand on her hip and dangling the spoon dangerously close to her mouth. "Something wrong, Ed?"

His throat ran dry and he eyed the spoon almost enviously. "N-nah, everything's fi- good, everything's good," he said in the clumsy, nervous way only Edward Elric could.

She raised an eyebrow lazily, tracing the tip of spoon across the line of her upper lip. "Sure? Are you thirsty? You look pretty warm, and your face is red, too. Maybe you should have a nice, cold-"

"Shower!" He finished, shrilly. "Yeah, a shower. I need a shower, to c-cool down. A shower, yeah, thanks Winry!" He offered her what she assumed he hoped would be 'cool guy' smirk, but in actuality, it was a lopsided grin accompanied by a blushing red face. Without another word, he leapt up from the table and sprinted upstairs.

The sound of water rushing through the pipes filled the old house and did not fade back into the walls for quite some time.

He'd be getting a lecture from Granny about that, for sure.

Winry just smiled to herself and sipped her coffee, making a mental note to break out the shorts far more often than just laundry day.

—-

The first time may have been unintentional, but the same could not be said for the many, **_many _**times after that.


End file.
